After spending a week in the Spatsizi Plateau with Wade Davis, world renowned ethnographer and author of the famous book “Serpent & the Rainbow” – based on the pharmacology behind the creation of Zombies in Haiti – Andy hits two birds (or in this case, dreams) with one stone.
Often the best experiences find you, rather than the reverse. To go back in time, this experience was particularly profound to me because I am a recovered racist.
Yvette Lalonde walks away from a 10 year career in order to volunteer at an Elephant Sanctuary in Thailand. Her LIFE will never be the same.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Go do the hiking trip in the book that had the prettiest picture and most scenic view. Made perfect sense to me. How hard could it possibly be??
After seeing everyone I knew plummet off the ledge into oblivion, I relinquished all control and trusted I would not die that day. Listening to the haunting sounds of blood curdling screams, I shut my mouth and the world became silent.
Being petrified of horses for as long as he can remember, Anthony makes the decision to have the adventure of a lifetime. He challenges his comfort zone by getting onto a horse, not allowing FEAR to rule his life.
Kidnapped away from my trusty computer, I was willingly ‘forced’ to meander and stroll about Granville Island with an old friend from out of town. 
Great times…except for the early morning hour!! 
Serves me right for going to bed so late…
Took the afternoon off to grab a cuppa rose-flavoured black tea at the Granville Island Tea Shop for my stroll through Van Dusen Botanical Gardens.
While I’m laying there in bed listening to the sounds of Hobbes getting murdered by Pookie’s alter-ego, Pookie-Monster, I like to think they’re play-acting to get my attention.
His personal style of anarchism infiltrates, wiggling its way into your brain, providing information that helps to support you in living a life filled with endless possibilities.
For a cat of his supreme size, he makes a surprisingly easy target. It’s like hitting the side of a barn.
Two decades ago, I was concerned about getting a vehicle. Not for the reasons you might think. I was afraid that if I got in the vehicle, I’d turn on the ignition and never look back, effectively giving in to the wanderlust that ensnares my soul at times.
There is a premise that “we are the sum total of the five people we spend the most time with,” so what does that mean when 2 of the 5 are feline?
If you subscribe to the statement that “the state of your life is nothing more than a reflection of the state of your mind” – what would that mean if you thought life is boring?
You’re boring.
“It will only take a moment!” The thoughts that trickle through my mind as procrastination quietly convinces me that everything in the moment is a priority. I check emails, de-clutter the office, or unload the dishwasher. I justify these actions by saying, “Tomorrow, I’ll start.” But it doesn’t happen. Procrastination steals our dreams.
Visualize an entire plane filled with pregnant women. Now imagine that plane crashing and killing everyone on board on a weekly basis.
You would think this would make the news…
Imagine having a billboard like this just on the outskirts of town. Your town.
I am reminded of an era long ago – the time of the gladiator. It was a time of debauchery and bloodthirst. A time where gluttonous spectators would sit in the amphitheatre, swilling spirits and greedily consuming decadent treats – all the while watching a battle to the death being played out before their very eyes. The bloodier the better, I might add.
So what was an ex-Project Manager of an environmental provincial-wide program doing delivering newspapers in the dead of night? Learning a few hard lessons about life, I’d imagine.
It’s not everyday I have a cup of tea with a genius who can whip up an image of me in a matter of minutes. Mark’s first name is Seriously. His middle name is Unbelievably. And his last name is Talented.
The Olympics in Vancouver were FUN. Not that I saw any games or visited any of the ‘Houses’ put on by the participating countries…but really, what did that matter? The city was ALIVE and it felt pretty amazing to be situated right in the thick of things. What I didn’t expect was how the olympics made me feel something I haven’t felt in a very long time. Canadian.
It all began with a late-night telephone call about strange lights emanating from the sky. Was it an alien from outer space? Braving the cold wet night, my neighbour and I went out into the darkness, wearing nothing but our fleece pajamas and gortex. Oh, and we brought popcorn too.
Never in my life have I dreamt about zombies. And I’m not talking about the ones you see downtown wearing the business suits with a vacant stares. Oh no…I am referring to the walking dead.
It was time to put the wee fur-children on a diet. Pookie, who looked like a large orange basketball with tiny legs sticking out, made my life a living hell. Her brother, Hobbes, also known as ‘blobber,’ conspired with her to make me miserable. But I would show these little fuzz-butts who was boss in this household. Probably not one of my brightest ideas…
What does the band Queen have in common with banana splits?
Me.
It was one of those oddly surrealistic moments in time when you don’t really know what possessed you to do that thing you just did.
The fact is – no one gave me a permission slip to do it.
The type of people who do this sort of thing are normally the people who don’t know they aren’t supposed to be doing this sort of thing. I hope it happens again.
My heart skips a beat knowing something is not as it seems, something is out of place. Senses tingling, I start feeling like a pirate who’s just discovered that X-marks-the-spot on the treasure map, realizing that the game of hide and seek is about to end.
Screams pierce the darkness, striking at me from every direction, filling me with terror. The deep resonate pounding of the drum summons ethereal symphonies and I begin to sense the spirit world getting closer and closer with each invocation in the ceremonial sauna.
Remember the film I Heart Huckabees? In it, a pair of ‘existential detectives’ try to help their clients solve the meaning of life. Well, I kind of feel that way every time I learn about the universe, science and spirituality.
My dreams, troubled at first, eventually gave way to something different, something new. And soon, I became consumed by one dream. The dream of another life. Awakening within me the stranger I’d been waiting an entire lifetime to meet.
Legend has it that under extreme and desperate circumstances, Eskimos would put their elders onto a floating iceberg and set them adrift to their death. The premise being that another world, a better world, would be there waiting on the other side for their arrival.
On September 30th, 2008, 249 pilgrims were killed in India at a temple dedicated to Chamunda – the Goddess of War and epidemics of pestilent diseases, famines, and other disasters. On this day, two hours to the stroke of midnight, I turned off my computer and ended my life as I knew it.
It was the excruciating smell of rotting flesh emanating from the trunk of my car which got my attention…after a period of time.
No…it wasn’t exactly a dead body in my trunk.
Not an entire one anyways…
Strolling through the darkened graveyard, I wondered if any skeletal remains would rise up through the perfectly manicured lawn and grab me by the ankles, pulling me down into the earth, willing me to join them in the moist, worm-laden resting place they called home. So where were they besides 6 feet under?
I was going to title this adventure ‘LEOS ROCK’ but then I thought it would be more appropriate if it was titled ‘LEOS SERIOUSLY Rock.’ Then I wasn’t sure if it was really enough – maybe something more like “LEOS Seriously Seriously Seriously Rock”….or something meaningful like that.
I was about to be crushed by a 200 pound man…and it was my all my fault. It seemed inconceivable that I was capable of such power…that it was even possible. But the proof was in the pudding. He was about to squish me like a bug.
For years and years I heard whispers of debauchery and decadence. Sizzling, spicy stories filled with fevered festivities. Being forced into such direct experience in a country that is sometimes unfriendly to it’s visitors, I felt particularly vulnerable – particularly when being so far away from my bed, my fur-children, my things – all that is familiar and safe.
Shamanism.
The word alone provokes fleeting mysterious images of a supernatural force that bewitches those who are particularly vulnerable and defenseless. It elicits visions of ritualized ceremonies that involve a chicken being drained of its life-force while the sounds of chanting and drumming escalate in tempo and intensity with the beat of your heart.
Or not.
The Buddhists have a saying about how one needs to go with the flow and accept life as it happens – without clinging to it or rejecting it – no matter the circumstance. So when something of an unusual nature presents itself, just go with it.
I tried to make sense of the images in my mind. Describing what I saw in my inner mind to the woman sitting across from me, huge tears began to stream down her face. I accurately described her daughter who ran away from home and tried to commit suicide by hanging.
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